The Inquisitor's Husband
by Sky Rider
Summary: Based after the main story events of Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dorian, now a Tevinter Magister, arrives back at Skyhold following grave news. Dorian x Inquisitor


DA:I – Dorian x Inquisitor

 _The Inquisitor's Husband - Ch. 1: The Inquisitor's Curse_

Description: Based after the main story events of the Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dorian, now a Tevinter Magister, is brought back to Skyhold following grave news.

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Scout Harding, who more recently enjoyed the title Commander Harding, was a pretty young female dwarf with enough intelligence to one day lead her own spy network. She was too soft-hearted for such a thing, however. Walking down endless Tevinter streets, she pulled out her map again. Two more lefts. No. A left and a right. Where was it again? She sighed, rolling it up, taking a left, and coming to a dead end that led up the steps of a carefully carved stone building with lavish marble pillars. It was a busy place, lots of people standing and talking, the occasional person passing her with purpose. She strode forward, getting a few sideways glances as she passed. Walking up the steps, she started to read the plaque by the side of the door.

"Harding?"

She jumped and looked towards the source of the velvety voice.

"Magister Parvis!" she smiled in relief.

"How unusual to see you here. No doubt uncovering another elaborate Venatori plot? So solicitous. What is it this time? Spurious intel? Euthanasia of an enemy scout perhaps?" Dorian smiled, giddy at the prospect.

"I don't think I understood any of that," said Harding apologetically.

"I apologize," Dorian's eyes twinkled. His hair had grown quite a bit in the last few years. Neatly shaved away from his ears, nearly his whole head was covered in short, thick waves of salted black hair. There was a careful braid to one side that was tucked behind his ear.

"It's not the Venatori actually," said Harding, struggling with something.

"It's not? Where is the Inquisitor? Shouldn't he be somewhere nearby if you're here?" he looked around, hopefully. "Or is he still waiting in Skyhold?"

For an instant Dorian looked deflated, but the thought of seeing his lover could not have put him in a better mood if he had planned the meeting himself.

"Actually, about the Inquisitor…" Harding shifted uncomfortably, looking away.

"Yes?" he grinned.

She looked up at him guiltily, and for the first time Dorian recognized that something wasn't right. The smile left his face instantly.

"What's happened?"

"The Inquisitor is not well."

Dorian's eyebrows twitched and drew into a worried frown, "Not well? What do you mean by that? Was he injured? Is he ill?"

Commander Harding looked to the side, "Not… exactly. It's more complicated."

"How?" Dorian rounded on her, "Tell me. Is that why you're here?"

"Yes. Cassandra thought you should know. It's… the mark."

"The mark? But they fixed the mark. It's stable."

"It used to be stable. Lately he's been using it more, find new powers in it. They started noticing it having problems again when he got another new power. Magister Parvis—"

Dorian shook his head irritably, "It's Dorian."

"Dorian. The Inquisitor is dying from the mark on his hand."

A deep pain marked his eyes, "Dy-dying?"

There was silence between them as Dorian searched her face for a sign that it was all some kind of cruel joke. Arithell Lavellan did have an incredible sense of humor. Maybe this was the ultimate prank… a way to get him back for leaving him in the South. But why now?

"It's been almost a week since I last saw him. We should hurry," said Harding.

No. It wasn't a joke, He wouldn't be that cruel, not even to try and get him to visit.

"Vishante Kaffas! Amatus… that man will be the death of me! Take my hand, we're leaving," he held out a hand to Harding, and she reluctantly took it.

Dorian mouthed something under his breath and they disappeared into a beam of light, reappearing in Skyhold's courtyard.

"Now," he turned to Harding, letting go of her hand, "Where is he?"

"The last time I saw him, he was in his quarters. Lady Vivienne was casting spells to make him sleep," said Harding.

Dorian whispered something else under his breath that sounded suspiciously like a new kind of curse word before taking the steps up to the castle atrium two at a time. Like a hurricane, Dorian swept past the throne and into the hallway leading up to the Inquisitor's room. He only stopped when he came to the door and found two stony-looking guards stationed by the door. Cassandra must've put them there as an extra precaution when Levellan took ill.

"Do you have permission to enter?" one of the guards asked, holding out a hand for perhaps a roll of parchment.

"Not written, I don't! I'm a friend of the Inquisitor, let me pass!" Dorian snarled.

Swords clashed together in front of the door.

"No permission, no entry. Those are the orders of Seeker Pentaghast."

"Maybe I'll just burn you to a crisp then!" Dorian's eyes flashed dangerously.

The guard began to react, but then there was a voice that pierced the argument from down the hall behind Dorian.

"He has permission! Let him through," Harding finally caught up, breathing heavily.

"But ma'am!"

"This is Magister Dorian Parvis, the Inquisitor's husband. Let him through!"

Realization dawned on the guards and their swords came down as one opened the door for him.

"Sorry, sir. We didn't know."

Dorian gave a stiff look at the guard before walking into the room. He had wanted to be here so badly, but now that he was… he wanted to be as far away as possible. He didn't want to see his lover like this.

"Amatus," he said. The word hung in the air like a dreaded question.

Cassandra and Vivienne, who had both been sitting around his bed looked around and stood up.

"Oh, good. He's finally here," said Vivienne.

"Dorian…" Cassandra began, but the Magister's gaze was glued to the bed.

"He's very weak, dear. I've tried every spell I can think of to keep it from spreading, but magic doesn't seem to work on it," Vivienne spoke, watching him.

Lavellan's handsome elvish face made Dorian's heart skip a beat, but it was quickly countered by the unnatural green glow in Arithell's body. His marked hand was stretched out next to him, glowing unnaturally bright. The light burned through his veins, glowing through his body like a virus. Dorian's breath left him in shock.

"We were about to try and dose him with another sleeping draft, but since you're here… He would probably be relieved to see you."

Dorian's legs carried him to the Inquisitor's side, as he sat on his bed and gently stroked his lover's messy black hair. More than anything he wanted to see him open his gloriously, shockingly blue eyes and see him smile.

"If you love me," Dorian said quietly, "then fight this, Amatus. Fight it with everything you have."

The Inquisitor's eyelids slowly opened until they tiredly rested on the Tevinter mage.

"Dorian?" he breathed.

Dorian's heart shattered. The humor, the strength, and everything that he adored about Lavellan was gone now. The weak exhaustion that remained in the Inquisitor brought tears to his eyes. How had this happened?

"Amatus…"

"Hold me, would you?"

Dorian didn't need to be asked twice. Gathering his lover in his arms, Dorian held him to his chest. Lavellan whimpered at the movement, before a sudden surge of light crackled from his hand and his screamed in agony. Dorian held him tighter, kissing Lavellan's hair. As calmly as he could muster, Dorian whispered spells into the Inquisitor's ear, followed by sweet nothings. Occasionally, Dorian would pause to kiss either Lavellan's head or his cheek. Sometimes he kissed an eyelid.

"Amatus. You fool. What have you done?" Dorian asked at last, pulling away just slightly so he could look at Lavellan's face.

With all the spells and affection, Lavellan appeared to take some measure of strength back.

"It's what happens without you," Lavellan flashed a weak grin.

"Was that meant to be a joke? Oh, dear, love. This is serious," Dorian spouted back sarcastically.

Lavellan chuckled, before weakly grabbing onto Dorian's robes for support.

"We should probably leave, dear," said Vivienne's voice from the other side of the room. So they had seen everything. Dorian didn't care. Let them see.

The door closed with a soft click, and Dorian circled his arms around the Inquisitor, letting Arithell rest his head on his shoulder. Dorian quietly recited more spells, and after a few minutes the Inquisitor looked up again, startling Dorian.

Before he could say anything, Lavellan leaned in and kissed him, raising his raising good hand to his husband's cheek and stroking his tanned skin affectionately.

"Dorian, I have ALWAYS loved you. For the moment I met you. How we are the only ones who remember that bent future with the mages. How we're the only ones who survived it. I love watching you fight. The way you have my back always, I've never been so in love. You're so… strong… and so beautiful. I almost can not bear it at times."

"Says the hero," Dorian smiled.

"Don't mock me," Lavellan frowned.

"I wouldn't dare."

"Wouldn't you," Lavellan gave Dorian a playfully resentful look.

"Never. I simply mean, I have enjoyed every moment with you just a much. More if you count my easily permissible presence at your side."

Lavellan wanted to argue. He wanted to make it clear who loved whom more, but maybe it didn't matter. Maybe they loved each other the same. As weakness took the Inquisitor once more, Dorian made him drink the sleeping draft. Then with a potent spell, Dorian put his lover to sleep again. Watching him drift out of consciousness and into artificial peacefulness, he rose from the Inquisitor's bed, walking out of the room past the guards, and through the hall. He numbly climbed the spiral staircase to his own quarters and closed the door.

Sliding down to the floor, the young Tevinter Magister crumpled into a heap of robes and tangled limbs as he buried his face in his hands. Dorian wasn't one to cry. He had experienced a lot of garbage and pain in his life, but this was bordering on too much for him. Lavellan was his heart. If Dorian lost him now, how would he ever learn to live with it? Arithell was so involved in everything, how would he live at all? Tears fell from his eyes and his insides ached with worry and sorrow. He wept quietly in the darkness, illuminated only by the moonlight beaming palely through the large patterned windows. The room seemed foreign to him now, like the lonely feeling in his heart.

* * *

 _So I wrote this after I saw a couple of the add-on game clips to DA:I. I'm sad, I haven't gotten to play the stuff after Hakkon yet, but some day... Anyway, this sort of follows Trespasser's story a little. Don't worry, if you haven't played it, it shouldn't matter. I can't promise it will line up exactly with the story, but I hope you guys like it anyway. Let me know what you think if you like. ;)_


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